Capture the Sun
by Goldberry
Summary: In a race against time, Bosco must delve into the mind of a madman before his partner pays the ultimate price. [FaithBosco friendship][adult language]
1. Jeremy Parker

Capture the Sun

The radio was too loud.

He had noticed it for the last ten minutes, but his frenzied mind could not signal his hand to turn the volume knob down. His fingers were clenched tightly around the wheel, flecked with blood not his own, the hospital bracelet on his wrist practically drenched with it. His wide, blue eyes were focused on the road, only one purpose in his thoughts, though his mind would not let him rest. The voices…they would not be silent. 

It was because he was almost finished. His mission was almost complete. He had the last one and now, finally, he would be free. 

__

Do you really want to be free?

The wheel jerked in his hand and the car swerved, frightening the cars behind him as he managed to wrench it back into traffic with an aggrieved cry. He wanted to scream, but all that came out was a choked sob. Why wouldn't they leave him alone? Couldn't they see he was doing everything he had been told? Couldn't they see that he had taken her _for_ them?

__

I think you took her for yourself, Jeremy. Just like all the others…

"No!" he shouted aloud, turning a corner wildly in his agitation. No one noticed. It was Manhattan, after all. His tires squealed. "No, she's the last. The last. No more."

__

Are you sure? 

The voice was less dominant this time and he managed to ignore it, trying to steady his driving. His hands were shaking and his vision was getting blurry with tears. He looked up into his rearview mirror, the polished glass showing him an average day in New York. No one knew. And no one would know. One more day and they would leave, and then…blessed silence. 

He pulled his car into the entrance of an alleyway, frantically searching for anyone who would see him. There was no one. It was nearing midnight, the streets this deep into the city were deserted. He breathed a sigh of relief and then immediately jumped as someone rapped on his window. Looking through the cloudy glass, his mind shrieked at him as he noticed the police insignia on the person's uniform. How could they know? He had been so careful. 

"Sir, roll down your window please."

Trembling, Jeremy did so, the edge of the glass disappearing into the door panel. Music swelled out into the night and the officer grimaced. 

"Sir, could you turn down the radio?" 

It took a moment for the request to register but finally Jeremy reached over and shut it off. He almost cried at the quiet that enveloped him. How long had it been since his mind had been his own?

"What's the problem, Officer?" he managed, between clenched teeth. He could not be foiled now. He was so close… The officer frowned, noticing his strange behavior.

"Can I ask what you're doing here, parked in this alleyway?" The man asked, hand settling securely on the gun at his belt. Jeremy's left hand tightened on the wheel as his other came to rest on his thigh. 

"I have to go on," he said, his voice strained. "It's almost time. I can't be late."

"You wanna say that again, buddy?" The police asked, incredulously. A sudden thump from the trunk made both men turn to look towards the rear of the car, the officer becoming more suspicious. Another thump. Jeremy groaned. 

"Sir, open your trunk." 

Jeremy looked at his hand.

"Sir, open your---"

"I can't," Jeremy breathed softly. A shot rang out. A muffled exclamation from the trunk. 

The officer looked at him with wide, surprised eyes as he fell to the wet pavement, dead instantly. Jeremy sobbed and dropped the smoking pistol onto the car floor, his bloodied hand going to the door lever. He stepped out of the car, not looking at the body of the man he had just killed. The officer's patrol car was parked a few feet away, just as silent as its driver. He spared it only a glance before sticking a key into the trunk and turning it to lift the back. The curled figure in the trunk met his gaze with a mixture of anger and fear. It was a combination he had seen many times before and it did not touch him. His eyes traveled down her body, surveying his handiwork with a detachment that kept him from falling apart over the things he had done. Her hands and feet were tied, the bindings stained red from the welts they had raised on her skin. He had not meant to hurt her, he never did, but it was necessary. She had fought more than the others and he was sure she had cracked one of his ribs when she had kicked him in the lungs. He had told her he was sorry as he bound and gagged her, dumping her in the trunk of his car, his face the last thing she saw before the trunk was lowered and she was cast into darkness. She was a little quieter now, bruised from the rough car ride, but her spirit remained unquenched as hatred filled her blue eyes and a curse slipped around her gag. He couldn't understand her words but he understood her tone. She hated him. His own eyes narrowed. 

"It was your fault, you know. I didn't want to kill him, but you tried to get his attention. I told you if you stayed silent, no one would get hurt," he admonished her. She only gazed up at him, eyes wide. He reached in and touched her strawberry blonde hair gently. "Don't worry, everything will be alright tomorrow." She flinched away and he dropped his hand. He reached up to close the trunk. 

"Soon," he said, as it clicked shut. A muffled cry sounded from inside. "Soon."

As Jeremy climbed back into his car, speeding away into the night, inside the dead officer's patrol car, the video camera saw everything, continuing to film long after it had captured Officer Faith Yokas' face.

TBC…

* * * *

Well, you asked for it and you got it! A chaptered story from yours truly. ^_^ It'll probably be about 4 or 5 chapters long, so bear with me. I'm actually an anime writer, so I'm basically over in that section all day long, working on my other fics. I hope you enjoyed this prologue, and for those of you who noticed, this story is slightly based on the X Files episodes "Duane Barry" and "Ascension", so some ideas might be parallel to that storyline. Sort of a crossover, I guess. Thanks for reading and comments are appreciated! 


	2. Losing Faith

24 hours earlier…

"Geez, Bos, are you wearing enough cologne? Your scent is forming its own cloud."

Maurice Boscorelli grinned as he slammed his locker shut, his leather jacket over his arm. "Got a hot date tonight, Yokas, and you know me, gotta smell good for the ladies."

Faith Yokas rolled her eyes heavenward in a silent prayer for patience as she slipped into her own coat, pulling her blonde hair free of the collar. Unlike her partner, she was going home to a silent apartment. Fred had taken the kids to see his mother for a couple days and so she was on her own until Friday. Not that it really mattered, she admitted bitterly to herself, she barely saw her family anyway. Her and Fred had been having their own problems so it was probably a good idea to spend some time in different spaces, where the kids couldn't hear them yell at each other. 

"You need a lift?" Bosco asked as they stepped out of the station, the blackened streets greeting them like always. She shook her head and adjusted her bag under her arm. 

"Nah, I'm in the mood to walk." She elbowed him with a slight smile. "Besides, your hot date is waiting for you." She started down the street.

"Yeah, well," she glanced back over her shoulder at him, "she can wait a little longer." He smiled and tapped on the hood of his car. "Come on, get in before you freeze to death." She opened her mouth to argue, it really wasn't that far, but he glared at her and she gave in, climbing into the passenger seat gracefully. 

Bosco drove a semi-normal speed all the way to her apartment, both of them simply basking in the comfortable silence that always stretched between them after a long shift. When his Mustang finally pulled up to the curb, she was relaxed, and felt a little better about staying be herself. Not that she didn't think she could handle herself, all her years on the force had definitely proved that, it was just…she couldn't explain it. Intuition, perhaps, that something was going to happen---

"Faith?"

She blinked, realizing Bosco had been trying to get her attention. "Sorry, Bos, what?"

He frowned, "You gonna be alright?"

She smiled, "Going mushy on me?" She opened her door.

"Been around you too long."

She laughed. "'Night, Bos." 

"Goodnight, Faith."

She closed the door and stood on the curb until her best friend disappeared around the corner before she turned to enter her building. The walk up the stairs was quiet, the sound of her keys in the lock unbearably loud. Inside, the apartment was black, shapes undefined to her tired eyes. With a soundless sigh, she sat her keys on the table along with her badge and gun. There would be no little fingers to mess with them tonight. 

Slipping off her shoes carelessly, she padded into the kitchen and got herself a glass of water, everything echoing oddly to her ears. Jesus, what was wrong with her? It wasn't like she'd never been home by herself before. 

"Grow up, Faith," she muttered to herself, irritated, but the darkness seemed to loom around her, and she wondered suddenly if this was how Bosco felt when night fell around him. 

Almost instinctively, her hand reached out for the phone on the wall but she managed to stop herself before picking up the receiver. What was she thinking? He wasn't even home. He was out on a date tonight. Her eyes locked on the phone. Well…maybe she could leave him a message. 

Later, she would think about this moment, wondering why she had felt so stronger that she had to call Bosco. She would decide that it _had_ actually been intuition, for things had never felt so surreal as that long night.

Grumbling at her own stupidity, she dialed her partner's number and waited patiently as his machine picked up.

"Hey, it's Boscorelli, leave a message."

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Hey, Bos, it's me. Don't ask me why I'm calling, I have no idea---" She stopped as a noise at the door caught her attention. Looking up, she saw the knob turn, be stopped by the lock, and turn back. "What the…" Someone turned the knob again, this time forcefully adding a kick for good measure and she inhaled quickly, her gaze flying to her gun next to the shuddering door. "Shit." Suddenly, the noise stopped, and there was terrifying moment of pure silence before her door suddenly splintered inward, crashing to the floor. She cried out and dropped the cordless phone. She had no time to react as a dark figure stood silhouetted in the doorway for a brief moment just before it attacked her. She was instantly pushed back into the kitchen sink, strong hands grabbing her. She fought back, kicking and hitting anything within reach. She even managed to bring her knee up and kick the guy in the lungs, causing him to double over just enough for the same elbow to get him in the nose. He fell backwards and she leaped towards the phone, only to be tripped by the intruder's arm on her ankle. She fell heavily, a few inches from the live receiver and she shouted into it as her attacker fell onto her, trying to hold her down. 

"Bosco!!!"

A muffled curse from her attacker and then something heavy hit her in the back of the head. She vaguely felt something warm trickle past her ear before everything went black and she knew no more. 

* * * * 

Bosco stumbled through his apartment door around two in the morning. Incredibly enough, he had been stood up and had opted for getting drunk to forget about it. Probably not a smart thing, but then, he was not really known for thinking with his head. 

He flung his coat on the couch and glanced towards his answering machine where the little red light blinked insistently at him. Who the hell would have called him so late at night? 

Making his way slowly to the table, he pressed the 'play' button, and flopped down on the couch to listen to his messages. The first was some pre-recorded piece of crap for a local business. He resisted the urge to throw something heavy. 

"Hey, Bos, it's me."

He jerked his head up, trying to focus. Why was Faith calling him? Had something happened. He sat forward. 

"Don't ask me why I'm calling, I have no idea--" She cut off suddenly and he heard a noise in the background, like someone rattling the door. "What the…" The noise grew louder and Bosco tensed, what was going on here? Faith cursed and then there was silence. He learned forward and jerked as a loud crash echoed at him and Faith cried out. Instantly sober, he jumped up and went to the machine, his heart pounding in his chest. This couldn't be happening…

There was scuffling and lots of noise. Bosco hands tightened into fists, and his blood ran cold with what he heard next. There was a loud thump and Faith called his name, fear in her voice. "Bosco!!!"

Then silence.

His entire body was shaking. 

The line went dead. 

Within the next second he had grabbed his coat and keys and was out the door, only one destination in mind. To find Faith, and make sure she was safe. If she wasn't…well, someone was going to get hurt.

* * * * 

Faith's apartment complex was already surrounded by cops by the time he got there. He parked his Mustang haphazardly in the street and jumped out, barely remembering to shut the door. He raced inside, taking the stairs two at a time, flashing his badge at a detective when he reached her door. It was marked off with yellow crime scene tape and he knew at once that she wasn't there. She was gone…

He felt very cold as he ducked under the tape, his eyes taking in all the damage. It looked like a whirlwind had torn the place apart. Vases where smashed, the door lay in shambles, and his gaze caught the eerie sight of a cordless phone lying abandoned on the floor. He closed his eyes briefly. 

"Sir, can I help you?'

It was the detective.

"I'm Officer Boscorelli, from the 55th." He motioned to the apartment. "My partner lives here."

The detective stepped closer. "I'm Detective Williams." He eyed Bosco solemnly. "She's not here, Officer. There's forced entry and blood on the floor." Bosco glanced sharply at him and Williams shook his head. "Won't know whose it is till we can get it to the lab. 

Bosco nodded. "Any other leads?"

"Not right now. Neighbors heard the noise and called it in, but didn't see anything. So far, I'm ruling it a kidnapping. Nothing was stolen."

Except my partner. 

"Is there anyone we should contact, Mr. Boscorelli? Family, friends?" 

Oh, god. Fred didn't know…

"I'll call them," he said, roughly. _Just as soon as I catch this bastard._ "Keep me informed, Detective." He turned, unable to bear the sight of such destruction anymore. The Detective called after him. 

"I'll call your station with anything I find out."

Bosco didn't bother to look back, instead, disappearing into the night to vent his anger and frustration on anyone that was stupid enough to get in his way. It was only when he reached the street corner that the realization of what happened hit him like a physical blow and he wobbled on his feet. Eyes filling with angry tears, he tilted his head back and looked up at the stars, all his pain gathering into one desperate, soul-wrenching shout. 

"Faith!!!"

Maybe, if he called loud enough, she would hear him…


	3. Bosco's Beginning

Bosco sat on his couch hunched forward with his elbows on his knees. A very intense concentration was etched onto his face, an expression usually reserved for a hunter on the path of his prey. In this case, the object of his devout study was…

…the telephone.

It was simply sitting there, looking innocent, full of silence. The damn thing was annoying him. He had gotten back from Faith's apartment at around four in the morning, having driven aimlessly around Manhattan, venting. It was now nine o'clock and the phone hadn't rung once since he had returned. Not that he really expected it to but, did it have to mock him like that? Instead of waiting for some kind of miraculous break in his partner's case, he should have been picking up the phone to call Fred and tell him what had happened, but every time he reached over for it, his fingers barely touched the receiver before his heart turned over in his chest and he would chicken out. It wasn't a feeling he was comfortable with, but he wouldn't deny it, either. He knew he just wouldn't be able to bear the thought of Fred telling Faith's kids that their mother had been taken away and they didn't know if she would be coming back. Alive.

Breathing in deeply, he ran a hand raggedly through his hair. He was off balance, incomplete, without Faith's calming presence. Even when she wasn't physically around him, he still _knew_ she was only a phone call away. Now she was so far out of reach he didn't know what to do with himself. They were the perfect team, her collected coolness the ideal contrast to his rash hotheadedness. Without the other, they would fall. It had happened many times before. 

So, the phone. The bane of his living existence. 

He had managed to contact Williams and give the Detective his home phone number whenever he got the blood work back. Not that Bosco really needed to know. He knew it was Faith's without a doubt. He wouldn't be lucky enough to actually catch the bastard who did this with DNA. No, this case would require work. He just needed a start.

Abruptly, the phone rang and he jerked, surprised, before hurriedly picking it up. "This is Bosco."

"Officer Boscorelli, this is Detective Williams." There was a brief pause as if he expected a reaction and when he didn't get one, he continued. "I've got the lab results back on the blood samples we took from the crime scene. I'm afraid it belonged to your partner." Bosco snorted, unsurprised. "But, I do have some good news. We got a match on the hair sample we picked up from the carpet." There was a rustling of papers. "Belongs to a Jeremy Parker. Formerly a mental patient at Briarwood Estates until five days ago when he was reported missing."

Bosco clenched his jaw. "What's this guy's problem?"

"Schizophrenic. Apparently, he believes that God speaks to him, tells him things that are going to happen." 

"Like what things?" Bosco asked, frowning. 

"Stuff about Armageddon, stuff like that. The doctor says he's willing to meet to talk about Jeremy's condition, which I think would be wise, considering his psychosis."

Bosco leaned forward, trying to keep his voice emotionless. "I've been given leave from work, Detective. I'd like to be put on this case…" He trailed off, unsure of what he would do if Williams declined. Luckily, the Detective was a pretty easy-going sort of guy.

"I've got to say that I wouldn't mind having you, Officer, but if I think your personal attachment to this case is getting in the way— "

Bosco cut him off. "Don't worry about it, Detective. I just want to get her back."

"Alright then. I'll set up a meeting for you with the Doctor. Name's John Dawson."

* * * * 

"Good morning, Officer. Please, have a seat."

Bosco nodded and sat down in a worn leather chair, finding a comfortable position. He really wasn't up for these type of mental places. All sterile and silent. Especially this one, Briarwood. It was a rich establishment, but the air was cold and he didn't really feel at ease. No wonder this guy Jeremy was a mental case. 

Besides, usually Faith handled this side of things. The parts that called for diplomacy and the _sensitivity_ that everyone was always bugging him about. Well, he could be sensitive when he wanted to. He just didn't often feel like it. 

Especially today. 

"I'd like to get straight to the point, Doctor. I need to know everything about your patient, Jeremy Parker."

Doctor Dawson, a middle-aged man with round, shiny glasses and a balding head, nodded sagely and sat down behind his desk, looking properly forlorn for a guy whose patient had escaped and kidnapped a woman. 

Faith…

"Well, Mr. Boscorelli, Jeremy's a troubled man. He was diagnosed with schizophrenia two years ago. He was transferred here from a local counselor when he started telling of his prophecies."

Bosco arched an eyebrow sarcastically. "Prophecies?"

Dawson drummed his fingers together. "Jeremy believes that God has called him to some special task. Specifically, to stop Armageddon." The doctor sighed. "He says that God needs control of the galaxy in order to stop the destruction of human kind." He paused, almost as if unsure of himself. "And Jeremy thinks he is the chosen one." Dawson opened a drawer in his desk, bringing out a micro cassette tape and handing it to Bosco. "This is a recording of one of my first conversations with Jeremy. It should give you some insight into how he thinks. I hope it helps."

* * * * 

"Doctor John Dawson, January 21, 2000. Patient's name…Jeremy Parker. Now, Jeremy, we're just going to chat today, get to know each other. I want you to feel at ease and tell me anything you want to. I'm here to help."

"Alright."

"First off, Jeremy, I'd like to know why you admitted yourself. You seem to be a young man of good health. Would you like to tell me?"

"I…I don't want to hurt anyone."

"And you would if you remained on your own?"

"I'm suppose to."

"And you don't want to?"

"No."

"Who says you have to hurt anyone?"

"God. He speaks to me sometimes. Not many people listen to Him, but I do. He tells me what I need to do."

"What does he say you need to do?"

"You won't believe me. No one does."

"Jeremy, I'm here to help you. I can't do that unless you tell me everything."

"Men are destroying themselves and God is sad. He doesn't want to bring an Apocalypse but He will if I don't do something. I have to, you see, I don't want anyone to die…"

"What is it God wants you to do?"

"Capture the sun…"

TBC

* * * * 

Hehehehehe, nice cliffhanger, ne? *laughs and ducks the various sharp objects thrown her way* This actually wasn't the original ending I had in mind, but I decided the rest would serve as the beginning to the next chapter. Sorry no Faith in this installment, but you'll see her next time and learn more about Jeremy's plans. 

Hope this kept you interested!

Berry


	4. Candid Camera

The darkness was complete.

__

Bosco would hate it, she thought randomly, her brain still fuzzy from the strange ride in the trunk of her captor's car. She couldn't think clearly and she couldn't see clearly but she knew it was dark. It had to be, right? All evil lairs were and she felt sure she was the closest to hell she had ever been. Her wrists and ankles were bound, the bindings covered in blood from the cuts they had rubbed into her skin. Her head was the worst though. Her kidnapper had hit her in the back of the head with something heavy and now she was off-balance and feeling a little sick to her stomach. Her condition was dangerous, that much she could remember. She might have a concussion. But in this deep pit of blackness, it didn't matter. She either survived or became the victim of yet another faceless crime. 

She chose survival. 

Her cell, for that was what it was, was damp and cold and only six paces in width and length. She had walked it herself when he had first thrown her in, when she had still had the energy and her vision hadn't been swimming so much. After discovering the limits of her world, she had collapsed against one of the walls, facing so that she could see and watch the only door. It was made of steel and had made a terrible noise upon opening. She could remember that, too. 

But the one thing she really needed to remember eluded her. 

Her captor's face. 

It had been dark in her apartment, and her pounding head could not bring her the vision of his face as he opened the trunk after the firing of a gun that had most certainly killed the police officer she had heard. Just thinking of that brought her a rush of sadness and guilt. She had tried to get the officer's attention and had ended up getting him killed. She only hoped his death lead the others to her, selfish though it was. Then his death would not be vain. 

Breathing out quietly through lips she had chewed raw from anxiety, she straightened her legs painfully and tried to make herself as comfortable as possible. There was no telling how long she might be there or what this man wanted her for. He had done anything to overly hurt her which made her guess he wanted her for some sort of ransom, though she thought herself a poor choice for a hostage. Her brain hurt too much to think on it long, she only hoped this nightmare would end soon. 

"Bosco," she whispered, not even realizing she had said it. 

Faith closed her eyes. 

* * * * 

Bosco was running on adrenaline. He had slept in twenty-eight hours and he knew he should have been dead on his feet but an infinite amount of coffee kept him up and going when he should have been flat on his back. He had to keep going. He would not rest until he knew Faith was safe. 

Pacing the confines of his living room, he listened to the Jeremy Parker's eerie first tape over and over again, looking for clues. So far he had come to the following conclusion:

Jeremy Parker was a fucking lunatic. 

He rattled on and on about this non-existent plan for Armageddon that God had supposedly told him about and that he was supposedly trying to stop by 'capturing the sun'.

Whatever the hell that meant. 

Parker went on to tell the good doctor that he must contain the heralds of the planets. These were apparently people that Parker thought held some special power. When the heralds were given the last sacrifice as he called, God would stave off the end of the world all thanks to little ole Jeremy Parker. 

Yeah right. 

So the guy had fallen off his rocker and lose his marbles for good measure. Bosco didn't really care. He just wanted the guy back in his little white room in Briarwood and Faith back by his side. That was all. 

The phone rang. 

He almost growled before remembering it might be the Detective Williams. 

It was. 

"An hour ago, the body of Officer Mark Woods was found in a side street of lower Manhattan in front of his patrol car. The engine was running and there were tire tracks leading away from the scene."

"So what?" Bosco asked impatiently, sensing that Williams was waiting to spring something on him and he was right. The Detectives voice rose slightly with grim excitement. 

"So I think you'll be very interested to see what his camera caught on tape."

* * * * 

"I don't believe it," Bosco murmured later, sitting heavily into the one of the chairs around the television in William's office. The Detective watched him calmly, waiting. "She's alive." Bosco almost laughed, his relief was so overwhelming. "She's alive. I can't believe it."

"Believe it," Williams said quietly, glancing at the paused image on the screen. Parker's car was angled away from the camera but Faith's stricken face was clear through the space of the opened trunk. Parker's face wasn't but neither man thought it could be anyone else. The tape was less than five hours old, a very good sign. 

Faith Yokas had been alive five hours ago. 

Bosco leaned back in the chair, every bone in his body suddenly gone to water. His heart was beating heavily in his chest and he felt almost light-headed. Faith was alive. 

Alive. 

And if she was alive that meant he could find her. 

* * * * 

Faith awoke to sound. 

She had been dozing awkwardly, her head injury pushing her in and out of consciousness until she was barely aware of what was real and what wasn't. Looking back on that moment, Faith was amazed she was even aware of anything beside her failing senses. 

"Are you there?"

The voice was pitched normally to carry through the thin wall and Faith jerked fully awake as she realized suddenly that she wasn't the only prisoner. Eyes wide, vision still pitiful, she leaned her head against the wall, ear against the old wood. 

"I'm here," she replied, her voice coming out more hoarse and gravelly than she would have wished. Her wounded mind was trying to work quickly. If she wasn't alone maybe she could figure out what was going on and why she had been kidnapped. 

Maybe she could figure out a way to escape. 

No answer came back to her. Faith tried again, "My name is Faith." _And I'm pretty sure I won't be here much longer if I don't get medical attention._

The voice's answer was a long time coming. 

"Carrie." A pause and the voice trembled. "You're the last, I think." Faith could hear the voice sob. It was a woman. "He'll kill us now. We're going to die here."

Faith's breath hitched in her throat. "Us?"

Carried seemed more eager to talk as she went on, gaining confidence as Faith kept up the conversation. "There are nine of us in all."

Faith felt herself frown. "How do you know?"

"We talked a lot in the beginning."

"How long have you been here?"

There was a moment of silence. "I'm not sure. Some of the others keep track. I don't. I don't want to know. It will just make it harder, in the end."

Faith swallowed. "We're not going to die, Carrie."

"Everyone thinks that in the beginning."

The beginning. She didn't want this to be a beginning. She wanted it to end. 

"I won't let us die. I'm a police officer and I'm sure my partner is looking for me right now. He'll figure it out. He'll find us."

Carrie didn't answer. 

Faith laid slowly down on her side, arms tied behind her back, ankles together. She had to believe. Had to. She wasn't alone, there were others. And, as everyone knows, people work best together. If she could get the other victims to evolve a plan of attack against their captor they might be able to survive this, whatever it was. 

They just had to believe. 

…

Why did it have to be so hard?

TBC…

* * * * 

Author's Note: Sorry this chapter was so long in coming. I do plan on finishing this, I'm just distracted by other fics, college, and life in general. I just hope someone somewhere is still reading this. ^_^ Thanks for your interest! More to come soon. 

Please review…


	5. The Car Chase

Author's Notes: Well, first off, I must apologize for the time between chapters. I just really haven't had much time to work on this fic but now that my others are finished I hope to get around to completing it. I just hope someone out there is still reading. ^_^ Thanks for your support and enjoy the chapter. Oh, and to answer someone's question, this story mostly involves Faith and Bosco but I think you'll see the rest of the TW gang near the end. 

The door was opening.

She knew because of the terrible sound it made, a grating, raspy noise that pierced her skull and made her head throb. She groaned with the pain, only half aware of what was going on around her due to the nature of her head injury. She briefly felt a hand close around her bound wrists and pull her to her feet, or try to anyway. Her legs wobbled and would barely support her. Colors swam in front of her eyes and she struggled to _see_. 

A movement by her ankles and a sudden release of tension said that her captor had cut the binding around her feet. She was expected to walk then. He was taking her somewhere. 

"Where are we going?" she mumbled, as he pushed her forward with one hand on her back, the other gripping her wrist, guiding her. She stumbled out of her cell and, for the first time, felt a slight movement of air brush past her face. She blinked, her gaze resolving a little. She was in a hallway. A hallway with many, many doors just like the one she had come out of. Were they all filled with victims such as herself?

"A small trip," a soothing voice said to her left, as he got her walking again. "Don't worry, everything will be alright."

"What do you mean to do with me?"

He hushed her as if she were a child. "Don't be afraid. God will look after you. I promise you won't feel any pain."

She shuddered and her captor had to tighten his grip on her to steady her. She was afraid, only a fool wouldn't be, but it was more from the way he spoke than the actual words. He was just so…_earnest_, as if he actually believed everything he was saying. 

He didn't sound like a murderer. 

But then again, some of them never did.

"Why are you doing this?" she tried again as they entered a large and empty basement. She was pushed gently down onto the hard, cement floor, until she was laying on her back, chills running up her spine. It was dark, and yet some flickering light illumined her captor's face as he bent over her, his eyes wide and almost innocent.

Almost.

"Because, if I don't, billons of people will die. Better the ten of you, than the whole world."

It was then that Faith realized she wasn't alone. Spreading out in widening circles, nine women sat in varying places, each one sitting cross-legged, their spines curved into submission, their eyes full of fear. They were silent as she gazed at them, noticing that there seemed to be some sort of pattern to their arrangement, although her weary mind could not decipher it. But what was most disconcerting was the fact that she was in the very middle of their circles. 

Her kidnapper straightened, still looking down on her. "Finally," he said, a smile on his face, "I've captured the sun."

* * * *      

Bosco rubbed his temples, trying to ease the tension headache that was slowly building there. Williams spared him a glance from the computer before directing his attention back to the screen in front of him. They had been sitting like this for the last five minutes, neither one wanting to voice the obvious out loud. 

It was Bosco that finally bit the bullet, impatience making his voice rough. "We're stuck." 

Williams tapped the keyboard idly. "Yup."

"So, what do we know?" Bosco asked, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "Parker escapes from Briarwood, kidnaps Faith, stuffs her into the trunk of his car, kills a cop, and then drives off, all because he believes that he has been chosen to stop the end of the world."

Williams picked up the conversation. "Cop's car video gives us a visual of the victim and a license plate number belonging to a 'Miss Melanie Hammon'." The Detective threw his pencil down on the desk in disgust. "As far as our records go, Jeremy Parker has never owned a car, much less used one in a crime."

Bosco shook his head. "We're missing something here. We need a location. Where would he take her?"

The other man exhaled. "Somewhere familiar. He'll want to feel comfortable, especially if he really doesn't want to do the 'sacrifice'."

Bosco closed his eyes briefly. "What about this Hammon chick, how does she fit in? Why does he have her car?"

The Detective's fingers moved over the keys. "Miss Hammon died in 2001 at the age of 59, lung cancer. No surviving relatives." He paused a moment. "Lived on Briggs and Parkway, House #331."

Bosco blinked and sat upright. "What did you say?"

Williams eyed him blankly. "Briggs and Parkway, #331."

"What's Parker's old address? Before he was sent to Briarwood?"

Williams typed quickly, catching Bosco's renewed energy. After only seconds, the computer beeped with the results. Bosco stood and moved around the desk to peer over the Detective's shoulder. Williams read the screen aloud.

"Jeremy Parker, Briggs and Parkway, #329." Williams voice was quiet. "Son of a bitch."

Bosco smiled grimly, jaw tightening. "Neighbors. They were fucking _neighbors_."

TBC….


	6. Sunset

It was so hard to think, so hard. Her mind was so muddled and in a corner of it, her own voice screamed that she would die in this place if she didn't do something. Anything. If only she could. Her vision kept swimming around every time she moved her head and the floor was so cold, so cold. And the women, they wouldn't look at her. She wanted to shout at them, yell at them, anything to break them out of their vacant glances and self-imposed imprisonment. He was only one guy. If they all rose up he would go down. A part of her knew some of them would be hurt, maybe even die, but they would be free. Wasn't that worth it? Wasn't it? Maybe it wasn't. She had a husband and kids. If she died, people would cry. 

Bosco would cry. 

__

Bosco.

With that name, a moment of clarity entered the chaos of Faith's thoughts and she moved her head slightly, as if to brush away the cobwebs that reduced her mind into the ramblings of a child. 

__

Bosco.

He would come for her. She knew it. _How_ she knew it wasn't important. She just knew it as a certainty. He would come and she would have to help him. She needed to be focused, be calm, for him. She was his partner, she couldn't let him down. He would need her. Yes, he would need her. She had to be ready. 

Ready. 

Grunting with the effort, Faith lifted her head, trying to see beyond the veil of murkiness that hung over her vision. It cleared a little, allowing her to see the other women, each one sitting on the ring of a circle, nine of them in all, spiraling out from where she lay in the center. For a moment she almost understood the pattern, it was so simple, she knew it was, but it wouldn't come to her, so she turned away. Her tired eyes found her kidnapper at the back of the room, muttering to himself, or maybe he was talking to himself. She watched him and after a moment he threw something down in anger before suddenly shaking his head and storming into an adjoining room, out of sight. Faith blinked. It had looked for all the world like he had been holding a conversation with someone only he could hear. Bosco would make a joke about that, she was sure. 

__

Bosco.

And then out loud, "Bosco."

The woman nearest her looked up, almost confused by Faith's plea. She was young, younger than Faith, with shoulder length brown hair and dark green eyes that seemed shadowed and restless. Faith took a chance. 

"Carrie?"

The woman glanced over her shoulder in the direction their captor had gone. When she didn't see him, she looked back to Faith. 

"Yes." 

Some of the other women were watching her. Faith could feel their eyes. If she could do this… 

There might be a chance. 

"Is anyone hurt?" she asked softly, her training reasserting itself as her mind slowly cleared. Carrie glanced around nervously. 

"I don't think so."

Faith nodded and struggled to sit up, her limbs curiously hard to move. "Good. Then there's hope."

Carrie was watching her with wide eyes, clearly afraid but her will to live was stronger. "What should we do?"

Faith gave her a wane smile. "Fight."

* * * * 

The door banged against the wall with the force of Bosco's kick as he hurried into the house, gun steady in his hands. "Police!" Williams was right behind him, covering him. It was Faith's place and Bosco felt a surge of anger. It should have been her with him. Parker would pay for what he had done. 

"Clear!" Williams called from the kitchen. Bosco made his way done the hallway of Briggs and Parkway 329, checking the corners with sharp eyes, knowing instinctively what they would find. 

Nothing. 

"The place is clear!" Bosco growled, still searching for anything that would lead them to Faith. There was nothing. The house was almost empty, devoid of trinkets or pictures of family or furniture. Parker hadn't been there in some time and it was almost certain he wasn't coming back. 

Bosco almost laughed. Maybe there had been too many voices in that old house. 

"He's not here," Williams called and Bosco nodded as he reentered the living room. 

"Yeah, this place is dead." He glanced out the window and stopped suddenly, a strange feeling sending shivers up his spine. 331 was right there, old and tattered, a veritable ghost house, its windows and door boarded up since it's owner death. The place must have never been resold. 

Why then was the side door polished and clean, looking almost brand new?

"Son of a bitch," Bosco muttered under his breath. He jumped into action, crossing the living room at a run. "Williams, he's next door. The neighbor!"

__

Hold on, Faith. I'm coming. I'm coming.

* * * * 

"It's time."

Faith jerked as the man's voice echoed through the basement room, the girls stilling immediately as the released their time had run out. Faith stiffened as the kidnapper approached her, his expression one of sad determination. There was something about that look that made her think but the thought flitted away, elusive. Her head felt stuffed full of cotton and any kind of quick movement made her feel as if she were swimming underwater. There wasn't much time, not much time at all. 

The man came to stand before, looking down at her for a moment, almost as if listening. Then came the surprise. 

"Sorry," he said as the hidden knife curved downwards, aiming for her heart but only cutting her arm as she rolled out of reach with a cry. It was too quick, too fast, and she was too slow with her head pounding every second. She would not last. She looked up at him, watching her own blood drip from the knife in his hand. He was crying. "I'm sorry, so sorry, but it's the only way. It has to be done and I must do it. I've been chosen. You understand, don't you?" He was pleading. "It's the right thing to do. Nothing can survive without the sun. You are the heart, the power, if I kill you, everyone will live, don't you see? If only the ten of you die, everyone else will live."

His words didn't make sense but she could tell that he really didn't want to hurt her, but somehow thought that doing so would save her and everyone else. She needed to talk to him, calm him, if they were to have enough time. 

"I understand," she said at last, ignoring the gash below her shoulder and the blood that was dripping onto the cold floor. "You're right. It's the only way." She looked down, not having to try very hard to feign sadness. "But, can't I say goodbye? There are people that I care about. I…I want to tell them I love them." She looked up, begging with her eyes, but her captor was already shaking his head. 

"It's too late. Too late." His voice grew dim and a misty look came over his eyes. "Too late for all of us." Without warning he lunged for her again with an almost superhuman strength, knife high, ready to plunge into her chest. She cried out again and rolled, missing the moment when Carrie suddenly screamed in pent up fear and dashed across the floor to throw herself on their kidnapper's back, fingernails clawing like daggers. In an instant, the other eight women joined her, fighting for their lives as well as for Faith's. The man cried out under the weight of all the bodies but his knife gleamed deadly and sharp. Faith knew she had to take it away before he killed someone. It was her job. She was a cop. 

Finding somewhere the strength to stand, she lurched into the fray as some women ran from the group, screaming for help and searching for a way out of a place they had never seen before. Faith made a grab for the knife as it lashed out at Carrie when she suddenly found herself with the cold blade against her throat and her captor backing away from the group of woman using her as a hostage against their rebellion.

"This isn't the way it's supposed to be!" he screamed, clearly unnerved. Faith held on to his arm, desperately hoping he would not slip and slit her throat. He was wild now and on the edge of violence and she no longer had any strength with which to fight him. "It was supposed to be easier. You have let me kill her! Then it would be over!"

"POLICE!"

Two men entered the room then and she felt the wind rush out of her as she recognized the one in the lead, his gun pointed at her attacker's forehead, brown eyes equally full or worry and rage. This was her avenging partner, hot-headed, rash, but good-hearted to the core. 

Faith had never been happier to see anyone in her life. 

"Bosco," she whispered, struggling to keep herself from tearing up. She was so tired. His eyes lifted to hers and she felt the strength of his silent message. 

__

I'm here now.

Yes, it would be alright. Bosco would take care of it. 

The man with Bosco spoke. "Let her go, Parker. Nothing can come from adding one more murder to your list. You need help and we can help you. Let her go."

Her kidnapper, Parker, shook his head, backing up a step and taking her with him. "No. No one understands. They all must die. They must, or everything ends."

"It'll all end right here if you don't give her up, Parker," Bosco commanded, anger thinly veiled. "Let her go and we can all walk out of here together and work this out. No one else has to die." 

Parker's arm tightened and Faith gasped, making Bosco jerk in response. "I'm sorry," her captor whispered, "I'm sorry. But it has to be done." Faith cried out, knowing what was to come, and so felt only shock when Parker suddenly stiffened, gurgled something unintelligible, and fell to the floor, a bullet through the head. 

Smoke was rising from Bosco's gun. 

In sudden tears, Faith fell to her knees, too emotional and too hurt to stand with the weight of everything that had happened to her in so short a time. Within seconds, strong arms grasped her shoulders and Bosco was looking into her eyes, his voice cracking as he spoke. 

"Faith? Faith?"

He wanted to know she was alright, but she wasn't. She swallowed a sob and whispered, "Bosco."

Without hesitation he drew her to his chest and hugged her tightly, one hand around her back, the other tangled in her hair as he held her against him. 

"I was so worried," he said, his voice filled with emotion, just like the time he had come to her after the Two Towers had fallen. "I didn't know what to do without you." His arm tightened around her. "You're my best friend, Faith. I know I never tell you, but you are. I'd be nothing without you." His voice broke. He was always so strong, so reckless, but when he was deeply hurt, he shattered like glass. It had always made her heart ache. 

"I know, Bosco," she said into shirt, "I've always known." She shushed him as he started to cry, deep silent sobs shaking him from the inside out. No sound but halted air escaped but she knew he was crying. She always knew when he cried on the inside. "It's okay, Boz. I'm okay. You came for me. You came for me." Her voice dropped to a whisper as she circled her arms around his neck. "Now please, lead me away from here."

And he did. 

* * * * 

"Apparently, he thought that by capturing ten women, each one representing a different planet plus the sun, he could somehow rearrange fate and avoid the apocalypse that he thought was coming. With their deaths, Death itself would be sated and mankind wouldn't be destroyed." Williams voice dropped with pity. "He thought he was a savior."

Bosco shook his head. "But in the end, he was only a murderer." He held out his hand and Williams shook it. "Thanks for letting me in on this case, Detective. I would have gone crazy on my own."

Williams smiled. "No problem, Boscorelli," he replied, slipping into his coat. "You're a good cop and I hope your partner will be alright."

Bosco nodded. "She will be, she's tough."

"She sounds like a soldier."

Bosco gave the other man a half smile. "She taught me everything I know."

* * * * 

"Bosco, if you don't stop hovering I'm going to give _you_ a concussion."

Bosco grinned. Annoying Faith was his all-around favorite pastime and, even though she would never admit it, he knew she liked getting him back. And right now he wanted to see her smile. 

"Oh come on, you know you missed me. Besides, the doctor condones my hovering."

Faith rolled her eyes but kept her arm through his as they left Mercy and he led her towards his Mustang parked on the curb, slowing his pace to match her slow, steady steps. She had spent only a night in the hospital, diagnosed with a concussion. She had been released on the terms that she take it easy and that she not stay alone since Fred and the kids were out of town. Bosco had immediately commanded her to stay with him and she hadn't disagreed. It would be nice to be looked after, if only for a few days, and Bosco had time off since he had killed Parker. Faith felt only pity for her kidnapper now that Bosco had told her the story behind the man. He had been sick and disturbed but he had not been evil. There was a difference. 

"So, what do you want to do?"

"Do?" she questioned as he helped her into the car. 

"Yeah, you're staying with me, aren't you? That mean's were like roommates."

Faith groaned. "Bosco, I'm not stripping down to my underwear to have a pillow fight with you."

Bosco sighed. "Damn."

She smiled up at him. "But I could go for some ice cream."

"Really?" he asked, perking up. 

"You know, comfort food. I do have a concussion, after all."

"Alright then, ice cream it is." He winked and closed the door before speaking to her through the glass so she couldn't hurt him. "And then the pillow fight."

"Boz!" Faith laughed as she watched him walk around to the driver's side. Some things never changed. Or maybe they did, changing into something better so quickly it was hard to notice. Whatever the case, the week seemed to be turning up. 

"Take me away, Boz, take me away," she murmured as he got into the car. 

And he did. 

THE END

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who stuck with me through the long wait between updates, it was your reviews that helped me finish this story. I would also like to apologize to Quartz for not getting the other TW characters in. I just couldn't seem to write them in. I guess this story was dedicated to Faith and Bosco alone. ^_^

Thanks for reading and comments are appreciated!

Goldberry


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